Turtle
by Alix the Alien Cyborg
Summary: Russia gets a turtle, and introduces it to the other nations. Everything goes to hell. Pure crack, I'm not even kidding, with some cracky USUK thrown in for good measure.


**Fandom: **Axis Powers Hetalia**  
Author: **Alix the Alien Cyborg**  
Rating: **T?**  
Pairings: **cracky USUK**  
Warnings: **crack. Pure, unadulterated crack. And character death.

Hell, I don't even know what the fuck this is. Remember that one-fic-a-week thing? Yeah, this is week four. And it is pure _crack._

**Turtle**

Russia got a turtle.

A cute, green, four-legged turtle.

Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.

Needless to say, it was evil-freaky-demon-spawn that scared everyone half to death. According to America, that is.

America wanted to know other people's opinions about it, so he decided to interview the nations about this "international threat."

When questioned, France began to mutter to himself in French, stopping just long enough to say: "It's so creepy I wouldn't even try to flirt with it." Given that Francis had once tried to flirt with one of England's unicorns, that was certainly saying something.

England was a little more polite, choosing to say "There's something wrong with that turtle," and shaking his head whenever it was brought up.

Romano went pale and shuddered, huddling into himself, and Spain had wrapped the Italian in his arms, explaining that Lovino was deathly afraid of the evil turtle. Personally, Spain thought it gave turtles-_the sacred species_-a bad name.  
Prussia began to rant about how "the awesome me" would easily crush the puny reptile if it came anywhere near his _bruder_ or his darling (both of whom he seemed to think were completely incapable of handling themselves.)

The others...well, you get the point. No one liked it.

Russia had named it Ivturtle. Like Gilbert and Gilbird, he explained. Thankfully England had dragged America away before he could respond to that.

The frightened America decided something simply had to be done.

And so that's how Arthur found himself at the first weekly meeting of the "Get Rid of Ivturtle Group." The name needed a bit of improvement. In fact, that was all they had gotten around to discussing.

"Guys, organizations with cool acronyms are like, so in right now! Liet, Liet, isn't that right?!" Poland squealed.

"I'm sure it is, darling." The tired brunet replied.

"Why don't we call it the...Begone Ivturtle Group!" Alfred announced excitedly.

"That's the worst I've heard yet," Francis grumbled.

England rolled his eyes. He hated to agree with France, but…"Begone Ivturtle Group? That's hideous. And were you not listening to Poland? The acronym there would be 'big.' Unless you're trying to imply something about our leader's stomach, that's not going to work." Arthur had hoped that the comment would make Alfred angry enough to kick him out, but instead a brief flicker of pain flashed in dimmed blue eyes. Damn.

You see, England wanted that turtle gone as much as anyone else, he just didn't want to end up on Russia's bad side. It was a scary place to be. He still remembered what had happened to France and America after they...with the rabbit and the tulips...no, England decided with a shudder, it was best not to dwell on such things.

As long as America didn't make any plans, Arthur would be fine.

"I have a plan!"

Oh, good God.

/

England gawked at his reflection.

"Remind me, again, exactly why I have to do this?" He asked incredulously. America rolled his eyes.

"We went over this. You need to dress as things he likes and bring gifts to become close to him, so that he trusts you, and then when he least expects it, you KILL THE TURTLE!"

_Did I actually raise this maniac? _England wondered in amazement.

However, before he could protest, America had opened the door to Russia's hotel room and pushed England inside.

_One day, I will get back at him for this. _England grumbled angrily. But for now…

Russia stared at the nation standing in his doorway.

Clad in a sunflower costume. A big, bright, sunflower costume.

And before anyone could react, England burst into song. Rasputin, to be precise. Yes, the song about "Russia's greatest love machine."

England is a hideous singer. In case you didn't know.

Once his song (and interpretive pseudo-Bollywood-style dance) was over, England hop-skipped to Russia and placed a large bottle of vodka at his feet.

"Yo, Russia dude! Commie!" A loud American voice screeched.

_Damn it, America, if you have to make crazy half-assed plans, at least stick to them!_

"Hey, Russia, I need to borrow that turtle kaythanksbye!" Snatching the turtle from Russia's grasp, America and England raced for the door. But they weren't getting away that quickly.

Russia rose to his feet, a murderous glint in his eyes, quietly _kolkolkol-_ing. "Ivturtle! Do not worry, Mother Russia will save you! I call on the power of Tony to help~!" Lifting his arms, Ivan shot laser beams from his palms straight at America, causing him to fall to the floor. Ivan then teleported out of the hotel, mysteriously leaving the turtle behind. Perhaps he thought Tony had grabbed it.

"Alfred!" England shouted, dropping to his knees. "Alfred, are you all right?"

Alfred coughed, looking pale. "Ar...thur?" England nodded, holding on to the other's shoulders worriedly. America coughed again, and blood stained his lips. "Ar...thur...I'm not going to make it, Arthur…" Arthur's hands clenched.

"Don't talk like that, Alfred! I won't let you die!"

"It's too late! Arthur, I have but one thing to say before I die!" Lack of energy suddenly renewed by magical forces that we won't discuss here, Alfred pulled England closer. "Arthur, I love you. With all of me-my heart, my soul, my kidneys. I had hoped to live a long life with you drinking tea and watching Doctor Who, but it seems that that will never be. I'm sorry, Arthur." England sniffled, not bothering to wonder about Alfred's random eloquence. Everyone knows people gain the ability to give wonderful speeches on their deathbeds.

"I love you too, Alfred! You are my sunshine when it's raining, my daffodil when everything dies, my Google when I don't know who played Superman in that latest movie. You make my heart spin and oh, I love you!" With that, Arthur threw himself onto Alfred, sobbing dramatically.

"But wait! Arthur! I cannot die in a fanfiction without having apologized for the Revolutionary War at least four times!" England shook his head.

"We don't have time. But do not worry, I forgave you years ago."

America gasped. "Really? Awesome! ...Can I die now?"

Arthur frowned. "Not yet you idiot! There's one more thing to say!" Alfred thought for a moment, then realized.

"Of course! Very well then. Before I die, I have a proclamation to make. My final words, if you will." America took a deep breath. "Arthur, I….holy fuck, your brother really is a stalker!" England gawked.

"_What?_" But it was too late! Alfred pointed feebly with one hand, then collapsed back on himself, still clutching that damn turtle close to his chest. Arthur looked down, then sighed. Alfred would have wanted it, he realized, taking the turtle. Actually, now that he looked at it, it really was rather cute…

He wondered where Russia had went, but the hotel room was empty of all but Alfred, Arthur, and the turtle. He looked where America had pointed, and frowned. There was a half open window there, but nothing else.

Arthur stroked the turtle gently with the back of a finger. Quite adorable, really. Why had they wanted to kill this little creature?

He didn't notice a dark, evil aura slowly seeping out from underneath that ridiculous sunflower costume.

/

Sealand quietly swung his legs back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. America and England had left to execute their plan, and for unknown reasons, Hungary and Japan wanted him to videotape it. Ah, well, all Peter cared about was that they were going to recognize him as a country if he obliged.

Hearing noises from inside, he stood, carefully. He was balanced on the fire escape just outside of Russia's hotel room window, and it wouldn't do to fall. Setting up the video camera, Sealand pressed 'record' and sat back to watch.

At first it was quite interesting. He got to watch that jerk England do a stupid little dance, and then there was some awesome action fighting. He didn't really like the death scene, though. A bit too sappy for his, ahem, cultured tastes.

Then things started to get weird.

Arthur had picked up the turtle, patting the back of it softly. Peter frowned as he noticed a dark purple aura beginning to emanate from the turtle, seeping into Arthur and the area surrounding them.

Sealand shuddered, watching England's facial expression grow creepier and creepier. He turned off the video camera and hopped back down to the fire escape-and a good thing, too, because England had just turned towards the window.

He hoped Kiku wouldn't be upset. There wasn't a lot of action, just that weird mushy stuff.

/

The next day, Arthur walked into the World Meeting carrying the turtle and smiling creepily.

He was the only one who walked out.


End file.
